Work by Justin Petropoulos
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[the once bare window]
Posted in Poetry, November 2009
She watches the moon melon and the rind of oaks. At this stage of the manufacturing process the edges of bodies are marked. Her legs the shutters for the once bare window, taking hinge in the frame. Light swallowed hard away behind them. She feels the house, their foundation, arthritic, settling. Afraid, she wants for [...]
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[suitcase]
Posted in Poetry, November 2009
A martial-style curfew whispers across the city. Street lights strobe but even the trees are still. The ambulance service stops to listen. There are rumors. Insurgents have painted themselves the color of rubble. Relax, remember to breathe. Mopping up operations are underway. A news conference follows, presided over by a man indicated entirely by squares, [...]
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[all you knew of dreaming]
Posted in Poetry, November 2009
The doors are ajar with a sudden awareness: we can be easily moved. Small parking lot, that particular slouching. Seeds swallowed shameless, away. These are the excuses. Talk to me. But our current vogue for non continues; a disembodied whistling almost in every town. Larger particles (10 micrometers roughly) dashed against cotton. The vulgar phosphorus agitated [...]
